A Heart Cold as Steel
by Sonic's Shadow X
Summary: Jay is a Scizor with a troubled past, who has come to the once-great city of Redridge looking to make a name for himself. Now he works as a mercenary under one of the city's many powerful mob bosses, and the only thing that stands in his way...is himself
1. Chapter 1: False Hope

A HEART COLD AS STEEL

**CHAPTER ONE: **FALSE HOPE

The sound of metal striking asphalt was a chilling one. Scizor's footsteps echoes throughout the cold, damp alleyway as the sound of silence rang in his ear.

This place was deserted; the Pokemon had a more important place to be. Their voices could be heard far away, all blending together with the masses, but Scizor could have distinguished between each and every one of them if he chose to.

As he continued to walk at the same slow pace, the steady _chink _of his armored feet echoed simultaneously with the beating of his stone-cold heart. A heart of steel, yes. But still a heart.

The alleyway seemed to darken as his passage brought him deeper and deeper into the heart of the city. As he strode through the misty morning, his pace slowly speeding up, he began to pass other Pokemon, lurking in the shadows. A Swalot and a Tangela, begging for food. A Linoone huddling in a corner, prepared to fiercely defend her children. A few Rattata scurried quickly away from a dumpster as something large scuffled around inside; a crusty old Golduck, scavenging for supplies, murmuring incoherently to itself at a feverish speed.

Scizor couldn't help but sigh heavily as he continued through the dark side of town, claws tightening. This city had once been great, pure. A place of new hope and authority. But it had long since fallen, not to warlords or bandits from afar, but itself. To the monsters and demons that lived at its heart, manipulating it, carving up for themselves, all for the sake of money and power.

Greed was a potent weapon, indeed. And Scizor was no stranger to it.

Hell, his own employer was one of the many who had long since sold his soul to control this land through corruption, violence,and money. And him.

A group of Ghastly, led by a large, confident Haunter, rose from the dark shadows as Scizor rounded another rusty brick-layered corner. He did not make eye contact, but was ready for a fight nonetheless.

"Be watchin' yerself, lad…" The Haunter grinned his senile grin as he growled in a heavily accented voice. "There be monsters here, and there be not a soul to protect you…"

Head lowered, still refusing to make eye contact, Scizor only quickened his pace. "Believe me...I know."

* * *

The alleyway finally opened up into Main Street, where a huge mass of Pokemon could now plainly be heard, not far in the distance. It was no lighter here, as the sky remained overcast with an ominous gray, but the open air was better than the daunting, eerie alley from which he had just came.

Two metal clasps on Scizor's back quickly unlocked themselves, and his insectile wings unfolded, stretching out tiredly and beginning to buzz at an already-blinding speed. He lifted himself into the air and sped along the roadside, keeping only a few feet from the ground. As he darted toward his quickly-approaching destination, it still amazed Scizor how barren even this part of the city was. _There must me more of them there than I thought._

And of course, as he came nearer and nearer to the end of his mission, the inevitable thought managed to push its way into his painfully thick head. _Is it worth it?_

Which, of course, he responded with a simple _Yes. It's _always _worth it…_

An internal argument may have ensued, but luckily a glimpse of the first signs of Pokemon could now be seen, dragging him away from his thoughts. It was time.

* * *

"…...And, as a conclusion I'd like to personally express my sincere gratitude to each and each and every one of you, as well as Police Chief Gallade and his associates, for coming here to be with me today. With everybody's cooperation, we _can _work together to make this city a better–and safer–place for us all."

The massive audience cheered as Mayor Ampharos stepped down from her podium. Turning away from the microphone to Gallade, she smiled politely, sighing with relief "How'd I do?"

He nodded considerately and placed a hand on her shoulder. "You did perfect. These people, they love you!"

A deeper voice came from behind him. "False hope."

Gallade rolled his eyes. "Oh, don't mind Lucario. He doesn't believe that words alone can change anything."

"I never said that," The jackal murmured, arms crossed. He closed his eyes, deep in thought. "But only a fool would think that our problems are shallow enough to be solved with speeches and rallies." He then blinked open his transfixing eyes, staring deep into Ampharos'. "Sometimes optimism blinds us. Although you may not be ready to admit it to yourself, the mob has more control over this city than you, and you know it."

The third of the group, Blaziken, spoke up. "Although I don't share Lucario's pessimism…"–the two exchanged exasperated looks– "I cannot help but agree. If we want to restore true order to this city, we must take action. Expect the worst and hope for the best, I always say..."

* * *

Scizor was pushing his way through the roaring crowd, trying to expel the claustrophobia as the warmth of so many other creatures irritated him. Their hope, it was pathetic. Could anyone really feel hope for a city such as this, even when their shell of a government failed to do more than give inspirational speeches? The mayor, Ampharos, and her sidekick, Clefable, had no control over these people. Motivation, yes, but no real control; the only ones left with any true authority were the countless mob bosses, and Gallade and his goons.

Scizor made his way to the front of the stage, where Ampharos had given her speech just moments before. She was now backstage, presumably chatting with Gallade and Clefable. Perfect.

He made his way to the police line, where dozens of sunglass-wearing Machoke were repelling the over-excited group of citizens. Of course, getting around them would be mere child's play. A quick Double-Team, and dozens of his makeshift clones littered the group. If any of them directly assaulted the guards, then he would surely be given away, but Scizor had a feeling he could get away with aggravating the citizens just enough to give him a distraction.

Sure enough, a few light pinches and Head-buts here and there, and a small riot had quickly broken out. As the wall of intimidatingly large Machoke broke up, trying to subdue the fight, the copies dissolved, unnoticed, and the real Scizor slid past, too fast to see without actually looking.

Sure enough, Ampharos stood just behind the stage, and she and Clefable were about to mount a Rapidash and Ponyta, respectively, as one final appearance before they went back to City Hall. If Scizor waited until then, it would be too late, and he would have failed. It was now or never.

The problem was her escort, the Police Commissioners. Chief Gallade and his goons, Lucario and Blaziken, were still surrounding the mayor. If Scizor didn't time this perfectly, he would be spotted, and it would all be over.

A huge, heavily armored Bastodion lumbered towards the group, just behind Rapidash and Ponyta, and the commisioners proceeded to mount it. Apparently, they planned to follow Ampharos through the parade. Scizor saw his chance.

The timing was almost perfect. As a considerably large Machoke helped a shaky Clefable onto Ponyta, everyone had their backs turned to Ampharos for but a split second. In that instant, Scizor lurched forward. He was still unseen as one menacing claw wrapped around Ampharos' mouth, and the other struck her back.

It happened in a flash; yes, the timing was almost perfect. Almost.

But as time seemed to move in slow motion, Lucario sensed something was amok at the last second. He spun around, his Aura detecting the danger.

It was too late for Scizor to turn back; it was time to do or die. As soon as he attacked, left claw muffling Ampharos' scream as the right one pierced her flesh, he was gone. Wings igniting the air, he spun around, taking off at a mind-mending speed.

"NO!" Lucario called out, leaping forward to catch Ampharos' falling body.

Blood flowed from the wound as she hit the ground in slow motion, still held by Lucario's powerful arms. Ampharos moaned in anguish, while the others had only just begun to comprehend what had happened. Clefable arrived at the fallen body next, and Lucario took off in the opposite direction. He hadn't seen the killer's face, the attack had been timed so well that it wasn't even possible to tell what sort of Pokemon it was. But Lucario had sensed them attack, and could now sense them making their escape at a speed he had never imagined possible for a creature of that size. All he knew was that it was his duty to follow this killer relentlessly, and fight them to the death. So that is what he did.

* * *

Scizor's wings beat furiously as he darted trough the thick buildings of downtown. "No, no, no, no _no!_" was all he could mutter as he made his escape. The mission had been accomplished, but not everything had gone according to plan. Had Lucario seen his face? No, it was impossible; Scizor had been moving too fast. But what Lucario's peripheral vision–and his aura, for that matter– had seen was enough to give chase. Now Lucario's long legs were pounding against the rooftops above him, moving at a breakneck speed nearly as fast as Scizor.

Of course, there was no way for Lucario to catch him at this point. But one glimpse was all it took for Scizor to become a wanted Pokemon. One glimpse was all it too for him to be Public Enemy Number One. One glimpse, to effectively end his life.

And as Scizor darted back through the dark alleys which had spawned him on this dreary day, he could not help but think about how even the slightest act, the most minuscule upset in the balance, could change everything.

_My name is Jay. Jay, the Scizor. I am a Mercenary, and I know my place in this world. An assassin, a contract killer. Employed under Alfonse, a rich and powerful Honchkrow; a mob boss. I do whatever is necessary to make money, from killing figures of great authority, to stealing valuables, to simply helping citizens with everyday life. I am not good, and I am not evil; although lately I can't help but question the ethic of my work._

_I have had a hard life, and I know there are greater challenges to come. But when I evolved, I swore to make something out of myself. Now, I've come to this godforsaken, once-great city, and if coming to power means helping to tear it up just a bit more, I'll happily oblige._

_My name is Jay, I am a mercenary, and I know my place in this world._

_Or do I?_


	2. Chapter 2: A Butterfly's Hurricane

**CHAPTER 2: **A BUTTERFLIES' HURRICANE

It was a warm, breezy summer night, the kind you get when the moon and stars seem to just work together to keep the clouds at bay.

Under the musty-yet-cozy roof of a small organic hut, an exhausted female Scyther had just recovered from giving birth to several eggs. Her rapid, painful breaths had finally slowed, and she excused the town's nursemaid from the house.

Grateful to finally have sometime to her new soon-to-be children, she laid her head back and gazed through the gaping smoke hole in the roof, transfixed by the stars above. Compared to that of most Pokemon during these times, the colony of Scythers' lifestyle was a simple one. Their semi-primitive village was just close enough to Redridge that they didn't feel alone in the world, yet far enough away that the town was free from the corruption that was inevitably taking the city hostage. As the Scyther's father had predicted when he was alive, the immense city would soon fall, destroyed by the very citizens whom its buildings sheltered. The Scythers' ancestors had been wise enough to foresee the downfall of Redridge, and had long since prohibited the villagers from making too much contact. Whenever a society tried to thrive with more than 100 Pokemon, they would always say, it swallowed itself like a confused Gulpin. This happened throughout history, like clockwork.

The new mother soon turned her attention from the vast stretch of nature to her eggs beside her. There were five; she had already counted them far more times than necessary. _Such beautiful eggs…_

A sudden rustling within the house made the mother snap her head up, startled. "Hello? Who's there? Show yourself!" The Scyther's eyes narrowed intensely as her newfound mother-like instincts kicked in for the first time, ready to defend her unborn children. After a moment, however, something seemed to click in her brain, and her tensed muscles relaxed. "Heath, I know it's you!"

An irritated sigh could be heard coming from behind a cabinet on the far side of the room, and a pixie-like voice muttered, "Berry, that took longer than I expected!" The speaker, who turned out to be a small Butterfree, rose from her hiding spot, wings glittering as she buzzed across the hut, coming to rest on Berry's shoulder.

"You couldn't knock?"

"I thought only Scyther were welcome in this town?"

"Don't be silly, you know we allow other bugs like you."

Heath looked like she was about to argue, then simply giggled. "Well...yes, I admit it, it's just so much fun spying on you!"

Berry raised an eyebrow, giving a look only a Scyther could give. "That's what you call 'fun'?"

"Well, it's mostly entertaining because you're so bad at finding me!"

Berry opened her mouth to growl another retort, but the Butterfree cut her off by turning to the eggs. "Beautiful, aren't they?"

Berry couldn't help but sigh and smile in pleasure. "Yes...they are…"

So softly that Berry wouldn't have even noticed had she not been looking, Heath bounced off her shoulder, fluttering lightly as if caught in a breeze, and landed in the nest. She bounced from egg to egg, softly as a daffodil, she inspected each one as if they had already hatched. "So, what have you named them?"

Berry couldn't help but chuckle. "They haven't even hatched yet...How could I name them?"

For once, Heath was the one throwing skeptical looks. "Berry," she spoke sternly. "I'm a an old female Butterfree, I've had far more children than you ever will; I know how it feels to be a mother, especially when you're still waiting for them to hatch…"

Berry sighed, realizing she was preaching to the choir. "Yes, I've given them all names...but I don't know whether they're male, or female! How can I choose decide for sure?"

Scoffing, Heath paused for a moment, only blinking, as if she had suddenly dropped into a trance.

Snapping back to reality, she barely whispered, "Two males, three females…"

Beaten, Berry succumbed. "I've...well, I've _considered_ Mayla, Lily, Cherry, and Von…"

Still whispering, Heath mumbled, "...and the runt?"

Berry's eyes widened. "Runt? Which one?"

Heath rolled her many eyes. "Oh, don't act like you haven't noticed. This one here, closest to you. He's a runt: It doesn't take a hundred eyes to see it."

Berry lowered her head, mind racing, as her eyes clouded. "I...I really don't know." She turned back to Heath, eyes glistening. "Oh, Heath...what should I do? You know they won't accept him! But, if I try to keep him…oh Heath, please!"

Heath's eyes seemed to fade as her mind spun webs around the problem, trying to think of a way help her old friend. "Well...I could raise him, if you like."

Sobbing, Berry managed to shake her head. "I'd rather let my child grow up in Redridge than in a Butterfree colony!...N–No offense, of course."

Heath nodded sadly. "None taken, I...I know what you mean. Well, then perhaps Redridge _would _be you best chance. That is, supposing the child survives…"

Suddenly red with rage, Berry's gaze snapped back up, blades raised, causing Heath to bounce backwards into the air.

Still crying, Berry roared, "_Don't you_ dare_ say that! My child _will_ survive! _He...he just _has_ to_!"_

There was an awkward silence as Berry realized who she was speaking to. As she cooled down for a minute, all that could be heard were her muffled sobs of anguish. Then, "...I...I think you should go…"

Heath sighed shakily. "Yes...i think I better had. But...Berry? You never told me what you planned on naming him."

Berry did not answer immediately, she only stared at the speckled eggs, wiping a shimmering tear from her eye by the tip of her silver blade.

Receiving no reply, Heath sighed again, and began to flutter away, out the window. She stopped, however, when Berry's voice called out to her, her voice now inaudible.

"...I'm sorry, what?" Heath murmured, slowly backing up in midair.

Berry spoke up, her voice quivering. "I said, 'his name is Robin!'"

Heath did not turn around. But before flying off, she called back, ever so softly. "Berry, I've seen my fair share of runts come into this world. Most of them...Most of them don't even make it past birth; they aren't strong enough to escape their shell. But I've noticed one thing: the ones that make it? They never do stop pushing, even after that shell breaks. Remember that, Berry."

A tear fell from her compound eye, glowing sliver in the moonlight. And then she was gone.


	3. Chapter 3: Allies, Not Friends

**CHAPTER THREE: **ALLIES, NOT FRIENDS

"Ampharos! Speak to me!" Clefable moaned, as the Mayor slowly died in her arms. She turned to the crowd of stunned Pokemon that had gathered behind them, whispering amongst themselves in horrified, concerned voices. "I need a Nurse here! A Chansey, a Blissey, _anyone_!"

In inaudible sound croaked from Ampharos' dry lips, as a trickle of blood came from the corner of her mouth.

"What is it, Mayor? What do you need?"

Ampharos' eyes were dazed and out of focus, meandering across the sky. Voice barely a whisper, she moaned, "I said…I nee–...I need G–Gallade…"

Gallade came forward, falling to a knee beside the Mayor and pushing a very taken aback Clefable to the side. "Yes, Aya, what is it?"

Ampharos pulled him forward, bringing her mouth to his ear as she murmured, "Alexander...my fr–friend…" She coughed up a bit more blood, choking violently. "This ci–city...it's yours now…k–k–...keep it safe…"

She fell back, her head loosely hitting the pavement. Her tired eyes gazed into the sky, searching...searching for something. "Oh...how I long for a brighter Redridge…"

And the world went dark.

"Aya...no!" moaned Gallade, whose first name was indeed Alexander. He buried his face in her limp shoulder, as the others stood behind him, heads bowed in crestfallen mourning. Alexander wanted more than anything to follow the Mayor's example, to heed her final words...but, in actuality, this city was no longer his. The Mayor was dead, and the last threads of hope that held this city together were broken.

All hell was about to break loose and, as much as it pained him to admit it, there wasn't a damn thing he could do about it.

In just a few days' time, Redridge would have fallen for good.

* * *

As he darted down the desolate city streets in a blur, it slowly dawned on Jay the magnitude of what he had just done; Redridge had been teetering on the brink of chaos for the last many years, and he had just given it the final push over the edge.  
So, again, he asked himself, "_Is it worth it?"_

And again, the his brain automatically responded, "_Of course it is. It's always worth it."_

But now was not the time to be think about it; he had his own problems looming over his head. Flying so fast that he lost control without warning, Jay crashed into the building nearest the roadside as he tried to round a corner. Still flying like his life depended on it, his head swiveled from side to side, desperately looking for a way to throw Lucario off his tail.

The images kept flashing before his eyes: Lucario, returning to the City Hall empty handed, yet having realized that he was a Scizor; wanted posters on every building declaring him wanted, dead or alive; Television Broadcasts, requesting any information on his whereabouts. And it wouldn't just be Redridge; No, news would get out across the globe: the mayor of one of the world's most infamous cities had been assassinated.

And now Jay was seconds away from it all becoming a reality. He desperately looked around, trying to find out where Lucario was, fearing the worst. He fought the urge to dive into one of the nearby abandoned shops; he knew better than to corner himself. And even though he could probably defeat Lucario in a fight, it wouldn't be easy to finish it before others arrived.

The pounding of feet above and the sound of Lucario's angry voice told Jay that the end was near. "I know you're down there, you fiend! Turn around and fight you coward, you–_AGHH_!"

Still in midair, Jay spun around at the last second to see a crescent-shaped object slam forcefully into Lucario, who had only just appeared on the top of the building, and was only a silhouette from this point.

The object smashed into his chest, giving him whiplash with the reverse-momentum force. Jay finally began to slow, lungs desperately trying to retrieve oxygen, as he watched the Police Commissioner's body topple from the building and strike the ground, hard. The impact was so powerful, Jay could felt it from where he stood, almost two blocks away.

Another object which struck the ground just behind him–with much less force, mind you–caused him to spin around in alarm, claws at the ready.

"Take it easy, toots. You know, you really _should_ be more careful when taking out the mayor."

Jay relaxed his muscles as he connected the voice to the familiar face in front of him. "Dammit, Nova, what are you doing here?"

The female Absol gave him a flashy grin. "I simple 'thank you' would be fine, babe; That Lucario had to be half a second away from seeing your face, and if it hadn't been for my nick-o'-time Razor Wind, you'd be a wanted man by now."

As they cautiously made their way back to Lucario's body, Jay whispered "Where are the others?"

"Well, we caught up with some trouble on the way here: some of the police's Machoke thugs. Duke 'n Bane offered to take 'em out."

Jay was almost afraid to ask, "...And what about Zeal?"

As they came to Lucario, Nova chuckled quietly. "What, you think he wasn't here the whole time?"

As if on que, a green blur in the form of a Grovyle seemed to drop from the heavens, landing with a dull _thud_ on the other side of Lucario. "Shit, Nova, you already killed the guy!" Then, he turned to Jay and smirked. "Nice job by the way, champ. I saw it all: Mayor's dead, and nobody saw a damn thing...not even this one."

They both rolled their eyes. "I did _not _kill 'em, see?" Nova muttered, annoyed. "He's still breathing."

"Well, is he unconscious, at least?" Jay asked, still concerned that Lucario could hear them speaking.

"Well, if he isn't already…"–Nova's eyes glowed for a minute, and Lucario's unmoving body seemed to quiver– "He sure as hell is now."

"We might as well finish him off, then!" Zeal growled. With a quick flick of his wrist, a whip of razor-sharp leaves unsheathed itself into his hand.

Jay thought about it for a moment, then held a claw out to stop Zeal. "We're Contract Killers, not cold-blooded murderers. Let the street rats or the Rabids get to him, but we're not going to just slaughter him."

Nova nodded sadly reluctantly agreeing. "He's right, toots. We've fucked up this city enough for one day; if we kill the chief's sidekick then everything'll go to hell before noon."

Zeal looked disappointed. "Fine, we'll tell Alfonse we lost him on the streets. He doesn't care, anyway; we got what we came for. Now let's go get those two idiots before they get themselves into trouble."

Nova chuckled as the trio began to walk away from the scene. "Trouble? Toots, Bane 'n Duke don't _get into _trouble. They _find _it. Then, they kick it's ass."

* * *

"Aw, yeah, bitches! C'mon, motherfuckah, come get some! How'dya like that?"

Zeal smirked as the excited voices echoed through the alleys. "Yep, sounds like Bane, alright."

Sure enough, the sounds grew louder as they rounded a corner into one of the city's seemingly endless dark, run-down alleyways. The scene that unfolded before them was something to see; a crazed Vigoroth, practically flying as it bounced off the walls, gleefully slicing its claws into the Machoke surrounding it like knives through butter. Jay counted maybe four Machoke still attempting to subdue the Vigoroth, with three more on the ground, unconscious or worse.

On the far side of the alley, three more Machoke had cornered an immense Tyranitar against the stone-cold brick wall of the alley. Almost lazily, the beast lurched forward, knocking all three of them backwards in one mighty sweep of its wickedly spiked tail.

"You...think we should help them?" Zeal asked, confused.

Nova laughed. "I doubt they need it, hon, but let's mop up these pussies anyway. I wanna be home before lunch."

The closest Machoke, who was still transfixed by the frenzied Vigoroth before it, didn't stand a chance against the ferocious charge behind it. It spun around at the last second, far too late to defend itself against a powerful Grovyle's kick, which sent it crashing against the overflowing trash cans off to the side.

Nova caught another one, wielding the blade on the side of her head like a sword, and the Machoke was helpless to do anything but absorb the painful slashes with its bulky forearms.

Seeing the beating its comrades were taking, the final Policemon panicked and tried to run. Jay didn't even break a sweat catching up to him; before the Machoke knew what was going on, the Scizor appeared in front of him in a flash. The police officer shakily rose his fists to fight, trying not to show his obvious fear as he stared into Jay's robotic eyes. "I...I'm not scared of you!" He whimpered.

Zeal scoffed, wiping his hands as he and the other three came up behind Jay's victim.

Jay couldn't help but smile as he addressed the Pokemon's fear. "Pride of the force, you are."

Machoke snarled and threw a powerful punch at the metallic insect, but Jay dodged it with ease. "Impressive." He chuckled, grabbing the wrist and snapping it with a single swipe of his claw. "Now it's my turn."

Faster than the Machoke could even begin to try and comprehend what was happening, hundreds of Bullet Punches were flying every which way, striking across his entire body_._

The flurry of iron claws was over as soon as it had begun. The Machoke could only whimper as every inch of his skin was battered and bruised, and a final power-packed punch send him toppling through the air, falling cleanly into a dumpster.

High-fives were exchanged between Zeal and Bane. "Yeah, man!" the Vigoroth exclaimed happily, grinning ear to ear. "Bitches gonna _burn!_"

Duke laughed a resounding, wall-shaking laugh that only a Tyranitar could emit, and Nova gleefully sent several rusty garbage cans flying with a few victory attacks. "That was way too easy, toots! I can't believe how much we're getting paid..."

The mercenaries' celebration was short-lived, however, as a steady clapping interrupted them.

Jay and Nova, followed by Zeal, Bane, and Duke, spun around to the source of the noise: a Gengar, emerging from the dark shadows of the alleyway. Behind him were countless Ghastly and on his right, to Jay's utter disbelief, was the Haunter he that had reprimanded him earlier that morning.

The team's muscles tensed as Nova, who was nearest to the family of ghosts, prepared to attack. "Gengar!" Zeal growled. "What the hell are you doing here?"

Amused, Gengar slowly stopped clapping as his perpetual grin grew even wider. "Take it easy, Grovyle, my boys and I aren't here to hurt you." He chuckled as another, smaller figure emerged from the shadows beside him. "And, by the way, call me Lars."

Jay's eyes widened and he lowered his stance as he and the others recognized the newcomer, who had appeared on Lars' left. "Alfonse!...boss, what're _you _doing here?"

The Murkrow chuckled, puffing his chest out even farther with pride. "Gengar and his buddies here wanted to come along and watch your success; that's why I sent the others to tag along with you. You got the job done pretty well, boy."

If he was speaking to anyone else, Jay might have taken the remark as a compliment. Instead he ignored it, and stepped forward cautiously. "So...why did Geng– sorry, _Lars _and his men want to see our mission, in the first place?"

"Well you see, Jay, Lars here has a job he needs to get done, and he's paying so well that I just couldn't pass it up…"

* * *

**In case you're confused yet, which is completely understandable, here's a list of the characters and their names. **

**Jay- Male Scizor, a mercenary currently employed under Alfonse**

**Nova- Female Absol, works for Alfonse**

**Zeal-Male Grovyle, works for Alfonse**

**Bane-Male Vigoroth, works for Alfonse**

**Duke-Male Tyranitar, works for Alfonse**

**Aya-Female Ampharos, Mayor of Redridge**

**Sierra (name unrevealed)-Female Clefable, Secretary to the Mayor**

**Alexander-Male Gallade, Police Chief of Redridge**

**Luke (name unrevealed)-Male Lucario, Police Commissioner of Redridge**

**Crispin (name unrevealed)-Male Blaziken, Police Commissioner of Redridge**

**Alfonse-Male Honchkrow, powerful mob boss who employs mercenaries**

**Lars-Male Gengar, powerful mob boss who commands ghosts**

**Firenze (name unrevealed)-Male Haunter, Lars' right-hand man**

**Berry-Female Scyther, new mother of five eggs**

**Heath-Female Butterfree, elderly friend of Berry**

**Robin-Male Scyther, Berry's unhatched child**

**I should also point out that in this Pokemon world, Pokemon use their species name as a formal name; their species name works like a surname. For example, Alfonse would be known as "Alfonse" to Jay and the other employed mercenaries, as well as others he is associated with (such as Gengar). However, to anyone outside the mob, (such as Alexander or Sierra), he would be known simply as "Murkrow" unless there were multiple Murkrow being referred to. I hope that clears up any confusion you may have!**

**Happy reading!**

**-Sonic's Shadow**

**(P.S. For the love of God, REVIEW!)**


	4. Chapter 4: Hollow Words

**CHAPTER FOUR: **HOLLOW WORDS

"You want us to kill our client?"

The incredulous question from Jay split a sinister grin across Lars' already-gleeful composure. "With the mayor gone, kid, this city's about to collapse like a cauldron volcano. Before, Redridge's little government, including the Commissioners and their police brutes, were able to keep the mob at bay, just enough to maintain what they liked to pretend was 'order.' Now, with Ampharos dead, chaos is comin', and it's every mob for itself. Alfonse has you boys, and I've got mine, but there are other Dons out there; Stockholm's one of the worst. The reason he hired you to take out the mayor in the first place, was so that he could rise to tower. His thugs attacked my boys and I this morning, and that's when I realized what his real plan was. Stockholm's moping up the streets, and before long he'll have the entire city by the balls."

As Lars explained the situation, the uncomfortably large group of mobsters slowly made their way through the never-ending alleyways. With Haunter–whose real name was Firenze–at the lead, Lars and Jay were close behind him, deep in discussion. Zeal and Nova were just on Jay's tail, eavesdropping, with Alfonse gliding just a few feet above, chiming in when necessary.

Duke took up the rear, lumbering along in a lazy fashion as his tail swung back and forth with impatience, knocking into overflowing garbage cans and various other things that littered the streets. Beside him was Bane, as usual, who was looking back and forth wildly, jumping around with twitchy excitement, itching for a fight.

Jay was sure there had to be at least twenty Ghastly surrounding them. But it was impossible to tell; the Pokemon were in a constant vortex of vigilance, drifting in and out of the shadows, always looking out for anything that might harm their beloved leader. Although there appeared to be only a dozen or so, Jay soon realized that there could be anywhere from five to a hundred of the ghouls, swarming the alleyway.

"And what about the other Dons?" Nova asked, suspiciously. "What about…"–she gulped– "Capone?"

Lars chuckled. "That old cat? Stockholm's been in 'n outa total war with the son of a bitch for ages; last I heard, there was a massacre down on 31st and Oak Street, and it didn't end well for Capone. For all we know, he and his mean are dead...or worse."

Zeal sighed heavily, crossing his arms. "Out of all the Dons, Capone was always pulling the strings…" His eyes met Jay's, with a demeanor of true concern. "He might not have been the toughest, or had the most men, but he was a clever bastard. If anyone was going to take over...I always thought it would be him."

Lars stopped his pacing and cackled lightly. "Well, son, you were wrong. Thanks to you gentlemen–and, of course, miss Nova–Redridge just turned into the world's biggest free-for-all, and the highest bidder wins everything. It's either going to us, Stockholm's gang, or Commissioner Gallade and his drones. So, why not us?"

He put his stubby arm around Jay and lowered his voice. "Kid, look around; whadya see? These ghosts, these ghouls...do you have any idea how easy it was to get them to do this kinda stuff?"

Jay gave him a suspicious look, trying to see through his ploy. "What's your point?"

Lars sighed with longing, looking at the faces around him. "Kid… there was a time, way back before you showed up to this city, where these streets and alleys were free of bastards like Stockholm and me. But now, people live with fear; it's just their nature. And all it takes to make them follow your every command...is to give them something they believe in." He chuckled again, his voice lowering even more. "These ghosts saw that I was like them, and they wanted to believe that I could help them. They'll do whatever it takes to come in first, and they think I'll get them there. All it takes is a little bit of firepower, and a whole lotta hollow words."

Before Jay could respond, Lars turned to Alfonse, who had been discussing something with Nova and the others. "Al, old buddy, I know that this kid isn't part of your gang; he's just working for you. But the offer still stands. If you want to get in on the deal, send your boys to the abandoned warehouse on 15th street at midnight, a week from now. We'll discuss the assassination then." As Alfonse's gang came to a halt, Lars motioned for Firenze and the other Ghastly to follow him deeper in the alley. One by one, the ghosts began to seemingly melt away, blending into the shadows. Just before Lars disappeared, he turned around one last time. "Don't take my offer lightly, kid." He said, staring off into space, his perpetual grin widening. "This city needs someone to take control; you do this for me…and we're goin' to the top."

And with that, he was gone.

Alfonse's mercenaries were quiet for a moment. Although they were all still–with the exception of Bane, who really had no choice but to constantly shake like a madman–Jay knew that their minds were soaring. All their dreams–and nightmares–were about to come true.

In the end, it was Zeal who slowly turned to Alfonse and hesitantly asked the question that was on every one of their minds. "So...what are we gonna do?"

The old Honchkrow sighed and stared longingly into the gloomy, overcast sky. A single drop of rain fell, skimming the side of his beak, and he spoke. "We do what any real mercs would do; we take the job. Or, rather, Jay takes the job. We're just the employers." He then returned his attention to the motionless Scizor, who was still staring down the barren alleyway. "It's up to you, kid; I could send my boys to get it done, but Lars seems convinced that you're the man for the job."

It took a long time for Jay to respond, as his gaze trailed off into space. "I don't know about this…" he finally replied, voice quivering. "All this damage we've done...it just doesn't seem right. Is it worth it?" The question wasn't rhetorical. Of course, Jay already knew the answer.

"It's _always _worth it, kid," Alfonse growled, echoing Jay's own motto as his sympathetic look changed to one of irritation. "We've been through this; whatever it takes to stay in business, whatever it takes to stay _alive_…we can't afford to let ethics come into play when we're the ones lighting the fuse."

When Jay didn't respond for a good minute or so, Alfonse sighed again, his stern glare fading. "Like I said, kid, we don't need you on this one; Lars seems to think you're the one to get the job done, but my boys can take care of it on their own, just fine. You know where to find us; and feel free to come by the hideout if you need a place to crash."

In response to Jay's stubborn silence, Alfonse rested a wing on his shoulder; a surprisingly sympathetic gesture from a Pokemon notorious for not caring about much other than money. "Think about it, kid. Don't ever forget what it means to be a merc."

Keeping his back turned, Jay chuckled darkly. "'What it means to be a merc'? Being a merc means selling your soul to the devil...just to stay in heaven."

The Honchcrow's heavy laugh that followed resounded off the walls of the alleyway. "'In heaven'? Kid, if this's heaven, then you've gotta have real fucked up sense of hell." He turned back to his crew and began walking away, leaving Jay standing in the cold. "C'mon, boys. Ol' Jay here needs some time alone, to think things over. When he's made up his mind, well…he knows where to find us." His voice trailed off as the endless pitch-black alleyways of Redridge seemed to swallow him hole.

One by one, Alfonse's gang turned to follow him. Bane was the first to go, leaving the melancholy scene in a hurry. "'Ey, boss, when 'we gonna kick some ass? I'm still itchin' to cut some hoes!"

Duke sighed and rolled his eyes. A Pokemon of few words, his facial expression said it all. "_Meh. I guess I'd better get after them."_

Zeal's reaction took a bit more time. For what seemed like ages, he simply stared off into space. Transfixed by the grimy walls around him, he began to speak slowly, never making eye contact. "We trust you to know what to do, Jay. You're a good kid. Just...well, feel free to drop by the hideout whenever you need it. You...you know you're always welcome." He seemed to be at a loss for any more words. Jay could see the gears of thought grinding in his head, trying to think of some answer to the ethical dilemma his partner now faced; but alas, in the end, he simply shrugged and turned away, not once meeting Jay's conflicted gaze.

Nova was the last to go. The two of them stood in that alleyway for what must have been years; the awkward silence was the loudest thing Jay's nonexistent ears had ever hear. Finally, she spoke. Also at a loss for words, Nova said the only thing there was left to say: "...Take care, toots."

"You too, Nova. All of you."

And then, a somber departure. Would it be the last time Jay ever saw those mercs walk way from him? No. Whether he liked it or not, Jay knew that these mercenaries, these godforsaken gangsters that he could hardly relate to, were the closest thing he had to a family. Would he ever see Alfonse's crew again? Absolutely; people like them, they seemed to have a way of being attracted to each other. Yes, Jay had no doubt that this was not the last encounter he would have with these particular mercs; he just prayed that the next one wouldn't be through the edge of a blade.


End file.
